


a fight we've won

by punkjerk



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Maze Runner: The Death Cure (movie) Fix-It, The Maze Runner Spoilers, i just want newt to be with thomas in paradise, newtmas fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkjerk/pseuds/punkjerk
Summary: just another maze runner: the death cure (movie) fix-it fic. i just wanted newt to be alive and happy and all of that with thomas in paradise. so it's these two nerds being safe and free and happy together in the safe haven/paradise.this fic has been translated into chinesehere





	a fight we've won

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first newtmas/ maze runner fic, so sorry for any mistakes or for bad writing. i also got tired of rereading it lmao. if you notice any small things you think i should fix let me know! also sorry for the boring title my word document for this was just called "the tdc ending we deserved" so hope you enjoy!! :-)

“Newt? Newt, just hold on a little longer you shank, please, they’re almost – they’re almost here, I promise, I promise,” Thomas was breathing heavily over Newt’s unconscious body, forcing the words out between the lump in his throat. He barely knew what he was saying, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. Newt was fighting so hard not to succumb to the flare, but they both knew it was an uphill battle without that serum. Thomas had managed to knock him out with the butt of his gun when he went in for another attack, and life had turned into a series of seconds all stretched so thin it was a matter of minutes before everything shattered. Thomas had his ear pressed to Newt’s chest, trying to hear a heartbeat, make sure he hadn’t just – no, he wouldn’t, he would never. But he couldn’t be sure because all he could hear was his own blood rushing through his ears, pumping so intensely it was as if the bombs were going off right inside his head. 

“Newt, if you can hear me – I need you. You can’t leave me, please, please don’t leave me, dammit, I can’t - I can't lose you, I lo…” Thomas trailed off, trying to suppress how frantic he was getting, hating himself just a little bit more if he didn’t ever get the chance to say those words to Newt. But he couldn’t bring himself to say them; it was too final. It was surrender.

He pressed his fingers to just under his friend’s jaw, right where the top of his neck began. His hands were shaking bad, but he forced himself to focus on making sure Newt was alive. With the buildings falling behind him, Teresa’s words echoing in his head, and the whole city lighting up in a firework show of flames and sparks, Newt was the only thing left that mattered. He kept looking up, checking to see if Minho and Gally had come back with the serum yet. _There’s still time, there’s still time, there’s still time…_

Thomas felt tears prick his eyes as he looked at Newt, passed out on the ground beneath him. His beautiful Newt who could survive anything, who he would follow anywhere, who was always there for everyone, but especially for Thomas. Newt, his hair caked in dirt and his mouth covered in black saliva, black veins crawling across his once star-like face. A knife sat loosely in his right hand, and Thomas took it and threw it as far away from them as he could manage, a guttural scream of frustration and panic erupting from his throat as he did. 

Then through a lull in the sounds of the bombs he heard footsteps, the sound of people running closer to him. His body tensed over Newt’s protectively, preparing to fight tooth and nail to keep him safe. Tears fell freely down his face as he recognised Minho, Brenda, and Gally running up to them. They froze upon seeing Newt on the ground and the tears on Thomas’s face. He could see the silent question on their faces: _were they too late?_

“Please,” was all Thomas could muster, and the group visibly relaxed enough to focus back on Newt. Brenda ran up to them, kneeling beside Newt, and Gally stood watch over them all. Minho came to where Thomas was sat back on his heels, one of Newt’s hands pressed between both of his own, and he pressed them to his mouth as Minho kneeled and wrapped an arm around Thomas, giving him a comforting squeeze. They watched with bated breath as Brenda administered the serum into Newt’s forearm.

“Will it be enough?” Thomas asked, watching as the serum made some of the black veins less prominent and some colour returned to Newt’s face.

“I don’t know, Thomas. We have to wait and see. C’mon, we gotta go.” Brenda and Minho started to get up.

Thomas leaned down and pressed a short, shaky kiss to Newt’s forehead. It was all he could do right now. He looked back up at Brenda, Minho, and Gally, who were all watching him closely. “You guys get out of here – get him safe. There’s something I have to do first.” Thomas turned and began running away from the four of them, their voices calling after him to come back, but it faded into white noise along with all the sounds of the battle he was running right into; he was going to do this if it was the last thing he ever did.

“I have to save him!” Thomas shouted back, hoping they knew where he was going to be. Hoping they would come back for him.

*********  
Thomas woke with a gasp, images of fire and blood – Teresa falling, covered by debris and flame, disappearing from view – all fading from his eyes. A blinding, warm light filled his vision and he blinked rapidly, his view shifting between red flames and sunlight. He tried to shift his position, but a sharp pain in his abdomen stopped him for a moment. He brought a hand up to it, feeling the bandaged wound, the memory of it rushing back into focus. He grimaced. Some part of him had still hoped that his visions when he woke were just the lingering remains of a dream. 

Thomas propped himself up on his forearms, looking around the room. He was on a cot in what looked like a hut made from lots of branches. Sunlight was streaming through the slats in its structure, illuminating the room and the sleeping figure of Newt on a bench at the foot of Thomas’s cot.

Thomas’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight of him. Newt – Newt, he was – he was _okay_. Thomas couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t a dream. He forced himself to sit up on the cot with a grunt, the pain not as bad as he had originally thought it would be, but sobering, at least. He’d never felt pain like that in a dream before. He lifted the corner of his shirt and saw the bandage. He traced his fingers over it lightly, feeling the phantom pain of the initial wound come back. He blinked the memory away; his only focus now was getting to Newt.

He managed to stand without too much trouble, and made his way over to kneel beside the sleeping boy. When Thomas blinked, images of Newt’s face covered in protruding black veins – bloodshot eyes begging to be saved no matter what – flashed across the darkness. But the memory was contrasted with the reality of Newt’s beautiful features, lit up angelically in the sunlight streaming into the hut. His messy blond hair was haloed in golden light, his skin a little dirty but clear of any black veins or saliva. He looked healthy. Peaceful in his sleeping state. Thomas almost didn’t want to wake him up, scared beyond belief that none of this was real. He didn’t want to be the one to take away Newt’s peace. 

But he had to know. Thomas tentatively reached out a hand to rest on Newt’s arm. His hand connected with Newt’s bicep and the touch made everything all the more real, feeling Newt’s soft skin under his fingers. Thomas’s eyes teared up, lightly shaking Newt and calling him softly back to consciousness. 

“Newt! Newt, wake up,” he called, watching as the blond boy’s eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light. He looked around a moment before his eyes fell on Thomas, who was unable to stop the soft smile that had settled onto his face.

“Tommy?” Newt responded groggily. He seemed confused for a moment before it must have clicked. “Tommy!”

Newt sat up fast and threw his arms around Thomas’s neck, practically knocking him over. Thomas grunted with the pain that shot from his wound, but he was too goddamn _happy_ to care. He hugged Newt back tightly, squeezing him. He breathed in the scent of sand and dirt and something distinctly Newt, something like a fresh garden, that he’d come to adore over the time he’d known the boy. More tears had sprung to Thomas’s eyes, unable to believe this was real. They fell down his face slowly, but all Thomas wanted to do was laugh.

Newt eventually pulled back and got up, helping Thomas to his feet too. He saw Thomas’s wet eyes and pulled him into another hug, which Thomas gratefully accepted. He never wanted to be out of Newt’s arms again.

“You’re safe now, Tommy.” Newt mumbled into his ear, lips brushing his earlobe and sending shivers through Thomas’s body. “We’re safe now.”

“Not Teresa,” Thomas said. Newt just squeezed him tighter. “Or Chuck.”

Newt pulled back. “No, not them. But we have each other. And I know they’d be bloody happy about that. We deserve some happiness, don’t you think?”

Thomas could only nod.

“C’mon, you gotta see everyone,” Newt’s smile was so bright as he grabbed Thomas’s hand to pull him out of the hut that, as sad as Thomas was over his lost friends, he couldn’t help but let the feeling of happiness flood through him as he followed Newt outside, never letting go of his hand.

*********  
Thomas was overjoyed to see everyone who’d made it to the Safe Haven: Minho, Brenda, Aris, Jorge, Vince – even Gally, despite everything. He’d lost enough people for a few lifetimes. He stayed right by Newt's side, keeping a hand on him as often as he could as they all showed him around their new home. It was a word that rang happily in Thomas’s ears.

He’d shed tears through his smiles as he was reunited with everyone, through Vince’s speech at the bonfire, while he carved Teresa’s name into the monument of all of their lost loved ones. He only breathed in relief when Newt came up behind him, wrapping a hand around his waist and guiding him away. 

At the bonfire, Minho had handed Thomas a necklace. Thomas recognised it as the one Newt had pressed into his hands when he was sure he was going to die. Thomas toyed with it, discovering the letter inside. He looked for Newt, who was sat across the other side of the campfire, his face lit up brilliantly by the warm glow of the flame. The shadows danced across his face as he laughed with some of the others. Thomas was thrown back to his first night in the Glade, when he’d sat down next to Newt, feeling an inexplicable pull to the boy. He hadn’t even known him yet and he had been sure he was going to like him. A smile came across his face – how right he had been. Thomas smiled at the memory, and replaced the letter back into the necklace without having read it. Maybe Newt only wanted him to read it when he thought he wasn’t going to be alive to see him respond.

Minho had told him how he’d had both the necklace and the serum that cured Newt clutched in his hands when they’d pulled him onto the Berg. He told Thomas that before he’d passed out from the pain of the bullet wound and of watching Teresa fall, he’d held out his hand with the cure and said “Newt.” The serum they’d given Newt earlier had brought him back from succumbing entirely to the Gone, but they all knew it wasn’t a cure. Newt said he had nothing left to lose, and they gave him the serum from Thomas. And it worked. He was getting better every day, same as Brenda had. Same as Teresa had told him. A cure. 

Thomas watched the world turn in their safe haven. Relief and guilt and sadness and happiness washed over him in cyclical waves, emotions all battering him down until he found himself nodding off, the sounds of the ocean waves in the distance, the crackling fire, and the remaining voices of conversation lulling him to sleep.

Newt appeared next to him, crouching down to where Thomas was resting against a log with his eyes closed, dipping in and out of consciousness. 

“C’mon, let’s change your bandage and get you to bed.”

Thomas nodded and accepted Newt’s outstretched hand. When they joined, something shifted inside Thomas. He felt both light and heavy at the same time, an electric spark connected them that made him dizzy. But he managed to stand upright, not letting go of Newt’s hand as they walked back to the hut Thomas had woken up in earlier.

The sun had gone down hours ago, so the hut was dark when they walked in. Thomas immediately sat down on the cot, missing the feeling of Newt’s hand in his own as the blond went to light a torch in the corner of the room. He walked back over, lifting Thomas’s shirt to get to the bandage. Thomas’s skin tingled wherever Newt’s fingers touched his skin, and heat was rushing through his body despite the cool breeze blowing through the open doorway. He focused his attention on Newt, who was applying a fresh bandage to the healing wound.

“How long was I out for?” Thomas asked when Newt sat back on his heels. 

“I have no bloody idea, I was out for just about as long, I think. I woke up yesterday though, not today. You were really bad, Tommy.” 

Thomas saw the reflection of the torchlight reflected across Newt’s glassy eyes. He thought about Newt waking up before him but refusing to leave his side until Thomas woke up, and the way that made his heart flutter. Thomas remembered the necklace that Newt had given him, the letter tucked away inside, and he pulled it out of his pocket and put it around his neck. He could feel Newt watching his every movement and when he met the blond’s eyes, Newt was crying. Thomas reached toward Newt, tugging on his hands until he stood up, neither one of them breaking eye contact. 

“I was always going to come back to you. I would’ve followed you anywhere, Newt.” Thomas breaks the quiet between them. 

“I know, Tommy,” Newt says. He reached out to the necklace hanging over Thomas’s shirt. “I meant what I said.”

“I, uh, I haven’t read the letter yet.”

“Oh,” Newt said softly, not moving his hand from Thomas’s chest.

“I mean – I found it inside this,” Thomas placed his hand over Newt’s on the necklace. “But I thought, maybe you didn’t want me to read it since you’re... still here.” _Because I know you didn't think you would get to say this in person,_ Thomas thought. _Because you thought you were going to-_. He stopped himself. Even now it was too great a pain to think of bearing. 

“It’s okay. I appreciate that, Tommy,” Newt’s soft smile put Thomas’s heart at ease. “You can read it if you want to. Just know I meant every word.”

Thomas nodded, eyes focused solely on slowly turning the necklace over in his hands.

“I should uh, get to bed then. Leave you to rest and all,” Newt made to leave, but Thomas’s hand reached out to grab his forearm, pulling him back so Newt was practically standing inbetween Thomas’s legs, looking down at him. Thomas’s face grew hot, but he held eye contact in what little light was left in the space.

“Wait,” Thomas said, giving Newt enough room to pull out of his hold if he wanted. But he stayed, raising an expectant eyebrow. “Before, when you – when you were knocked out in the city, before the serum, I, uh, I wanted to tell you something.” Thomas said, eyes flicking between Newt’s eyes and lips, conspicuously admiring how beautiful he looked. 

“Well, I’m here to listen,” Newt muttered, bending down a little so he was more eye level with Thomas. 

The tension in the air was palpable. Thomas could feel the energy pulsing in the short space between them. He couldn’t stop looking at Newt’s lips, and figured he needed to take this chance. He'd wasted so much time already. He reached a hand to rest on the side of Newt’s neck and swore he felt a shudder go through the blond boy.

“I think I’d rather show you,” Thomas whispered, trying not to shatter the delicate thing they’d created here. “If that’s okay?”

Thomas met Newt’s eyes, seeing the love and adoration reflected back to him. He caught Newt’s nod and small smile before leaning closer, his eyes fluttering shut as Thomas pulled him in, closing the distance between them until their lips met. 

And just like that everything fell away. There was a hum of electricity buzzing through Thomas’s whole body pleasantly, filling him with a warmth he’d never felt before. He couldn’t think of anything besides the way Newt’s thin chapped lips felt on his own, the way Newt had brought his hands to Thomas’s shoulders. Thomas kissed Newt softly, slowly, cherishing every second. He pulled Newt in even closer and Newt almost lost his balance. They broke apart briefly, letting out light laughs as Newt gently pushed Thomas down onto the cot and hovered over him, hands on either side of the brunet’s head, supporting his weight so he didn’t collapse onto Thomas’s wound.

Thomas’s hands rested gently on Newt’s waist, where he was now straddling Thomas. They were both breathing heavily.

“I love you,” Thomas said, feeling Newt’s breath cascading across his face, they were still that close.

“I love you too,” Newt was smiling in a way Thomas hadn’t seen in a long time, and he pulled the blond down for another kiss, messier because neither of them could quit smiling. But they didn’t mind.

“Stay,” Thomas breathed out through a shudder when Newt moved to place kisses down Thomas’s neck.

“I’m never leaving you again.” 

“Good that.”

Newt laughed against Thomas’s neck, the sound vibrating along his throat, filling Thomas with pure happiness. Thomas didn’t know how long they were kissing for but they’d moved to lay comfortably side by side on the cot, stealing tired kisses through sleepy conversation.

After pulling back from another kiss, Thomas breathed in the moment. The torch light had burnt out, all the light left coming from the moonshine and whatever firelight was left burning outside the hut. But Thomas was holding Newt so close their noses brushed together.

“We made it to the Safe Haven,” Thomas said, unable to stop the awe from seeping into his voice. Newt hummed his affirmation, and Thomas met his gaze in the darkness. “But I think this –” he rested a hand on Newt’s cheek, “—might be my paradise.” 

Newt actually snorted, laughter bubbling from inside him. Thomas grinned till his cheeks hurt.

“You’re cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe,” Newt giggled. Thomas thought that laugh alone could’ve restarted his heart.

“You do.”

“I do. You’re my paradise, too.”

“I love you. God, I can’t believe I almost didn’t get to tell you. I’m never going to let you forget.”

Newt just tugged Thomas back into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in the darkness, happiness and contentment radiating the room around them in a way Thomas couldn’t ever remember feeling. He pressed further into Newt, wanting him to know just how much this meant to him, how he would never get enough. How he knew that as long as Newt was around he would have an endless supply of this feeling. 

When their lips parted, so many emotions rushed over him. He was grateful. And relieved. And happy and sad and hurting and guilty. But they were going to take things one day at a time, rebuilding their lives knowing they were safe – a feeling so foreign he had to fight his mind to keep it close. But God, they’d have to pry it from his dead hands to take this away again. With Newt drifting asleep beside him, and his own eyes closing he could only think: _this is worth what we’ve fought for._

*********  
Thomas woke up to the sun streaming into the hut. It took another moment to orient himself, to untense his muscles; but once everything came back to him he let out a breath of relief, relaxing into the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well. He felt truly rested and at ease for probably the first time in his life. 

The pain in his abdomen thrummed lightly and he rested his free hand over it, feeling the warmth through his shirt. His hand brushed Newt’s, which was flung over Thomas’s stomach. He also noticed that one of Newt’s legs was thrown over Thomas’s own, as if the blond couldn’t get close enough. A new kind of warmth spread through Thomas’s body: a happy, content kind. Thomas turned his head to admire Newt sleeping so peacefully next to him, the sun haloing him in the morning light. He was beautiful, and Thomas couldn’t get over him. He was sure he had a goofy grin on his face remembering the night before. 

Something shifted on his chest as he looked back up at the roof of the hut. Newt’s necklace. The letter. 

He wanted to read it. After all, Newt said he’d meant what he wrote, and he wanted to know what he meant so emphatically.

Making up his mind, Thomas maneuvered his arm out from under where Newt had been using it as a pillow, careful not to wake the boy up. He set his head down gently on the pillow and after Newt appeared to stay asleep, Thomas got to work opening the letter.

He held it up above him, reading each word carefully. And then again. And then again, his eyes always lingering on the line right before Newt had signed his name.

He didn’t even know he had been crying until he felt soft lips press to the side of his temple where some tears had fallen. He turned his head to face Newt who was now wide awake, big brown eyes watching him closely. Thomas put the letter aside and moved to hug Newt, ignoring the ache that came from his abdomen with his movements. He felt Newt hug him back, squeezing him carefully.

Thomas pulled back from the hug still teary-eyed, and he peppered kisses all over Newt’s face, murmuring “I love you,” between each one. Newt finally caught Thomas’s lips in a kiss and more tears fell from Thomas’s eyes as he closed them. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly lost this boy. Thomas didn’t know much about love but he knew how he felt about Newt, and whatever love was, he knew Newt was synonymous with it. 

Newt pulled back, thumbs wiping away the fallen tears from Thomas’s eyes. He smiled, warm and bright, and everything good in the whole world smiled with him. Thomas traced his fingers carefully along the crinkles that formed by Newt’s eyes as he did.

“I love you, too. I told you I meant it.”

“I know. Sorry for waking you,” Thomas smiled.

“Oh, I am going the hell back to sleep right now. We both need more rest. We deserve it.” Newt said, flopping his head back onto the pillow, Thomas rolling over onto his back again.

“Well then, if you say so it must be true.” Thomas smiled.

“Good that,” Newt said through a yawn.

He turned to see Newt nuzzling back into his shoulder, eyes closed but with a ghost of a smile lingering on his face. Happy. He looked happy. And with the waves crashing along the shore in the distance, with the waking voices of all the other lives they had helped to save – Thomas let himself feel happy. Let himself be at peace, safe, here with Newt right beside him, fingers and legs intertwined. He shut his eyes, the way Newt had written the words _“I love you”_ burning behind his eyelids. He’d never forget the way it looked in Newt’s handwriting, and hoped he’d never get to stop hearing it in his beautiful voice. 

His thoughts drifted as sleep beckoned again. _Maybe the world didn’t win. Maybe one day they will. But we’ve fought our fight. And today – today_ we _win._

Thomas relaxed into the feel of Newt’s soft breath on the side of his neck, the weight of his leg on Thomas's body. In front of closed eyelids, warm sunlight illuminated their new life together, lighting the world orange and yellow, forever a sunrise. 

Thomas fell back asleep, a deep breath escaping him, accepting that he had finally found Paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> hey there, thank you for reading this if you made it all the way down to this note! comments and feedback are appreciated, and i hope you enjoyed this! thank you again x


End file.
